Changing Lanes
by Vaughn 247
Summary: You're gonna hate me for this...lol...
1. Choices

Yep! Another post ATY one (it's a different take of it). But what can I say? I love that episode (even though they do leave it as a cliffhanger)…I'm kinda taking a short break from "Drowning" – well, it's not really a break, but I'll be working on this one when I can't think of what to write for "Drowning."  
  
1/?  
  
Vaughn took in a breath involuntarily, and the water gushed into his lungs. He was choking. Coughing wouldn't work under water. More water would rush in if he coughed. There was nothing he could do. His throat was starting to feel rough. He prayed into the dark depths of the water that Sydney was all right. He never imagined he would die this way, but hey, Sydney was the last person and thing he saw, so he was grateful. In the crazy and dangerous world of the CIA, he would have imagined himself being shot to death with tons of bullets coming his way, being strangled, even being crushed by some genius torture equipment, but never drowning without once seeing the enemy. Being killed because of some stupid machine. A freaking "battery." How pathetic is that? How could a battery kill someone, you ask. Good question, Vaughn thought sarcastically. Being killed by some invention of an ancient old man…of what Sydney did…  
  
--  
  
"Agent Vaughn," Jack Bristow said, stopping Vaughn in his tracks.  
  
"Look, I'm grateful for the fact that you saved me," Vaughn turned, his voice sounded scratchy even to his ears, "But I have a plane to catch."  
  
"You do not."  
  
"I will. So if we're done here," Vaughn let his sentence trail. He scuffed his shoe impatiently on the gravel. He had had enough of this.  
  
Jack said nothing, just stared Vaughn down with his cold gray eyes.  
  
"I'll tell Sydney you said goodbye," Jack finally responded, looking back into the truck where Sydney was sleeping. They had rescued her from the clutches of Irina Derekov, aka Laura Bristow, after planning every little thing out. Irina was now dead, but Sark and his men weren't. They were still lurking somewhere in Taipei, unless they got out of that city in seconds.  
  
"Don't bother. You've never liked me anyway, wouldn't you like it if I just left without telling her?"  
  
Jack was silent. He had noticed this little change in Agent Vaughn's attitude towards him and Sydney and this whole mission when they were saving her. Instead of being the spineless CIA agent, he was now sticking up for himself and what he thought was right.  
  
Even Vaughn was surprised at the words that spewed forth from his mouth. I'm talking back to Jack Bristow? Maybe that brush with death back there in Taipei…  
  
"All right then Agent Vaughn," Jack returned to his normal brisk way. Did he seem a little more colder than before? "Leave as you wish."  
  
Vaughn nodded, acknowledging Jack's permission for him to leave. He turned on his heel and strode to his own car. The one he "borrowed" from the half full parking lot of a KFC restaurant. It was relieving to see English words in another country, although he knew how to read the Chinese characters. But the words reminded him too much of what happened…or what could have happened. He wasn't a coward, but he was going over things in his head. His priorities, Sydney falling from number one; his life, how much he disregarded it for Sydney…The Bristow family was just out to destroy him, weren't they?  
  
Wasn't it just a few hours ago that he pushed the guy away from Sydney? What changed? It was amazing how much could alter in a matter of hours, like his friendship with Weiss. Sure, friends are supposed to look after each other, but reporting me? Vaughn thought angrily. Especially with Haladki in the room? A friend's betrayal…  
  
--  
  
"Agent Vaughn, Devlin wants a word with you," Vaughn's secretary, Jenna, relayed, as she saw him walk through the doors.  
  
He nodded, and walked towards Devlin's office.  
  
"Come in," Devlin called. "Ah, Agent Vaughn."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"I've received word about your…excursion in Taipei with Agent Bristow," Devlin started.  
  
Who the hell knew about it?  
  
"Who told?"  
  
Devlin looked him straight in the eye. "Jack Bristow."  
  
Vaughn nodded, trying to remain calm. Why would Jack report him?  
  
"You have two options. Either be reassigned, or transferred to the American Embassy in Spain. Your pick."  
  
"Transferred," Vaughn replied quickly, not wanting to be reminded of Sydney anymore.  
  
Devlin looked surprised, and didn't bother to disguise it. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Never been more sure about anything," Vaughn responded.  
  
"…All right…here, take this. There's a ticket in there for a flight to Spain tonight," Devlin started, half expecting Vaughn to change his mind. Nothing.  
  
Vaughn took the folder and nodded. "Should I clean everything out of my house?"  
  
"No, I'll get people on it. The stuff will be shipped to your apartment in Madrid."  
  
--  
  
"You're leaving?" Weiss asked, stepping hesitantly into Vaughn's half- empty room.  
  
Vaughn didn't turn around. What could he say to someone that betrayed him? He simply nodded.  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Spain."  
  
"What? Did Devlin transfer you?"  
  
Another curt nod.  
  
"Why? Does it have to do with Bristow?"  
  
"I wanted to go, OK?" Vaughn responded sharply, trying to ignore the reference to Sydney.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry I reported you to Devlin," Weiss started, playing with the yo-yo in his hands.  
  
"It's over and done with."  
  
"You're still mad."  
  
"I was never mad," Vaughn responded, finally turning towards Weiss. "More like disappointed."  
  
Weiss looked downcast.  
  
"Don't worry about it. I'll be out of here in," Vaughn checked his watch, "three hours."  
  
"But what am I supposed to say to Sydney when she asks?"  
  
"What makes you think she'll ask? Just tell her Will's at a safe house."  
  
"Will? I meant about you," Weiss looked at Vaughn confusedly.  
  
Vaughn scoffed. "Tell her I was transferred to another branch."  
  
"That's not true, is it?"  
  
"Half and half."  
  
"Why are you doing this?"  
  
"Let's just say I had an enlightening moment. Some things are just not meant to be," Vaughn lied.  
  
--  
  
"Joey's Pizza?"  
  
"Sorry…wrong number."  
  
--  
  
"How'd you get out?" Sydney called out, before she even saw Vaughn. But that question was on her mind since last night. How did Vaughn get out of the watery grave?  
  
"What are you talking about?" an unfamiliar voice questioned curiously.  
  
"Who're you? Weiss? What are you doing here?" Sydney asked, surprise creeping up to her eyes.  
  
He looked uncomfortable.  
  
"Where's Vaughn?"  
  
"He, uh…he got um…transferred."  
  
"What? To where?" Sydney stood there, mouth agape.  
  
"Another branch."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because…hell, I don't know."  
  
Sydney felt hurt. Vaughn didn't even tell her. Didn't even call. No warning. At least he's alive, she thought. He could have died yesterday.  
  
"So um…why'd you call?"  
  
"Just to tell you that," Weiss wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.  
  
"It's hot in here," he defended his actions.  
  
But Sydney wasn't looking. She was staring off into space. Thinking about Vaughn. He couldn't have been transferred that far away, she thought. Weiss won't tell, but I'm going to find out. I have to find out.  
  
"Oh," Weiss remembered. "Vaughn told me to tell you that Will is safe."  
  
"Will? Oh, right. Thanks," Sydney replied in broken up sentences, her mind still somewhere else.  
  
--  
  
"Dad. You have to tell me where Vaughn went," Sydney began, fiddling with her warm-up jacket that was draped over her arm.  
  
He stepped away a little, a strange look on his face.  
  
She was disappointed when she heard his answer.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"You do! You're lying!" Sydney blurted, her emotions clouding her senses.  
  
"Sydney, listen to me. I don't lie to you. I seriously don't know where he went," Jack said loudly. 


	2. Crumbling...

OK, I'll be evil…lol. You'll get it soon (don't say I didn't warn you!)…oh…you're gonna hate me  
  
I have one thing to say (I just need to get this out) : my sister is such a freaking witch with a b!!  
  
= flashbacks  
  
  
  
2/?  
  
"Hola Señor Vaughn," his secretary, Rosa Juarez greeted, placing a cup of coffee on his desk.  
  
"Gracias Rosa," he responded. Spain wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. It was a good opportunity to brush up on his Spanish…and to forget about a certain someone.  
  
"Tienes una cita en diez minutos con Señorita Lopez," Rosa said before she left the room.  
  
Señorita Maria Lopez…Vaughn smiled slightly. She was the complete opposite of Sy…someone he was trying to forget. While Sydney was basically introverted, because of her job, Maria was outgoing and fun, not that Sydney wasn't. What the hell, Vaughn thought, I'm never going to forget Sydney, so why try? I seriously don't know, Vaughn answered his own question. Is this how pathetic I've become?  
  
It's been a month Vaughn, c'mon. Live with it., he told himself. He fiddled with his coin, the one he brought all the way from LA. It had traveled with him in his jacket pocket, and was rightfully placed on his desk the minute he got settled.  
  
"¡Hola!" Maria's Spanish-clad voice interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"Hola," Vaughn responded, smiling back at her.  
  
"¿Qué pasa?" she grinned, sitting down on the chair in front of his desk, pushing her blonde hair out of her face.  
  
"You know, the usual," Vaughn responded honestly, admiring the fact that she was always so cheerful. Maria was the secretary of another agent in the Embassy, so she knew the basics.  
  
"Yeah, writing reports and stuff?" she asked, revealing her perfect white teeth.  
  
Vaughn nodded.  
  
"Want to go out for lunch? My treat," she suggested.  
  
Vaughn hesitated, then smiled. "Sure. Let me clean this mess up first though."  
  
--  
  
"Where are we going?" Vaughn asked, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting patiently for the light to turn green.  
  
"Make a left at the intersection of Bolivar and Cadena," Maria instructed, ignoring his question.  
  
"El Pueblo de Pepito," Vaughn noted, reading off the only sign on the street.  
  
"How'd you guess? Oh…right. I knew that," Maria corrected herself quickly.  
  
"We're eating here?"  
  
"Yeah, what's wrong with it?"  
  
"Nothing. Just asking. Didn't want to park unless it was," Vaughn explained, pulling up to the curb.  
  
Once inside the small restaurant, a woman in a waitress' uniform greeted them.  
  
"Hola, dos personas?"  
  
Vaughn nodded, and they followed the woman to a vacant booth.  
  
"What are you going to have?" Maria asked, opening the menu, after taking a seat across from Vaughn's.  
  
"I don't know. I've never been here yet," Vaughn confessed, reading the list on the menu.  
  
"How about the arroz con pollo? I know it sounds plain, but they make it really good over here," Maria suggested. "Plus, it's cheap."  
  
Vaughn snickered. "Then bring on the steak and seafood!"  
  
"Oh, shut up Mike," Maria rolled her eyes playfully.  
  
"Yeah, we'd like two arroz con pollos," Vaughn said, seeing the waitress walk up.  
  
"Dos arroz con pollos. Anything else?"  
  
"Agua por favor," Maria cut in.  
  
"Sí, gracias," the waitress said as Vaughn passed her their menus.  
  
"So, you decided to stick with my suggestion?" Maria said, raising her left eyebrow.  
  
"I trust you," Vaughn responded, instantly regretting it.  
  
Maria didn't notice. "Trust is a tricky thing," she warned, shaking her manicured finger at him.  
  
I think I know that, he thought. What the hell is your problem Vaughn? You're here in a nice little restaurant in Madrid, but you're still in LA. You have a beautiful woman in front of you, but you're thinking of the other beautiful woman. It's not fair to either of them…  
  
"So…uh, how's work?"  
  
Maria raised her eyebrow again. "Boring."  
  
Vaughn nodded.  
  
Uncomfortable silence clouded their ears.  
  
Maria shifted, the leather booth squeaking under her. She looked up as Vaughn let out a tiny snort.  
  
"Not funny Mike," Maria started, narrowing her eyes at him.  
  
"Never said it was," he responded innocently.  
  
"Uh huh," she replied, staring right at him. Esta muy caliente, she thought, taking her eyes off him after a few seconds.  
  
--  
  
"Hey Michael," Vaughn's partner, Brian Simmons greeted, making himself comfortable in Vaughn's chair.  
  
"What are you doing?" Vaughn asked, walking into his office.  
  
"Sitting in your seat. What does it look like?"  
  
"Brian…you have your own office. Right across the hall. Make yourself at home over there," Vaughn joked.  
  
"I know, but the ladies always seem to come in here," Brian responded, grinning.  
  
"You have a girlfriend. Her name's Karen, remember?" Vaughn said. That sounds familiar… You're girlfriend's name is Alice…  
  
"Of course I do. How old do you think I am? Sixty?"  
  
"Maybe you are," Vaughn replied, motioning for Brian to get out of his chair.  
  
"Mike, man, you're thirty years off," Brian responded before he walked out of the room.  
  
Vaughn shook his head and returned to his desk. The leather seat felt warm. Ick.  
  
--  
  
Vaughn threw his suit jacket onto the bed, and looked around. Although he had been there a while already, he was still not used to it. It felt awkward. He kept expecting someone to pop out of the closet or something, and claim his apartment back. Vaughn didn't even know what the rent was, because the CIA took care of everything. They got all the bills…which couldn't have been much, because the whole apartment building was crumbling. Not literally, of course. The paint on the walls were fading, and it gave the apartment an eerie appearance. On the outside, bits of brick were chipped away. It looked as if someone had chucked rocks at the building as a habit.  
  
Then he started his daily ritual. I wonder what Sydney's doing…Getting briefed by Sloane? On another mission? Hanging out with Francie and…Will? Getting her counter mission? Studying?  
  
Stop thinking about her damnit! Vaughn cursed. You wanted to be transferred. It was your choice. Your decision. There's no backing out of it now.  
  
Suddenly, the phone rang,  
  
Vaughn cursed, but reached for it.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey…Mike?"  
  
"Oh, hi," he replied, softening his tone.  
  
"Are you all right? You sound a little…different."  
  
"I'm fine Maria. What's up?"  
  
"I just wanted to know if you were doing anything tomorrow night…"  
  
--  
  
that's it for now! Sorry it took so long…  
  
Yes, I know, I'm evil. Lol. But hey, I don't get to be evil often! 


End file.
